The City: Part 3 – Impulse
by reen212000
Summary: Tag for The Return, Parts 1 & 2. A wee bit AU, a bit canon for the 6 weeks before the team reclaims Atlantis.
1. Chapter 1

After watching The Return, Parts 1 & 2, I had a lot of questions. Didn't you? As brilliantly as it was executed, there were too many questions, or at least missing scenes. So I incorporated this story into The City series. So here it is, The City Part 3: Impulse. Please R&R!

Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me, however, we're just takin' a little ride together...

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Six Weeks Ago

One last look back, they left The City to those who belonged there. The Ancients had returned, and wanted the kids from Earth to stop playing in their sandbox. John Sheppard knew The City – _his_ City – would be in good hands. But he could not shake the feeling that he should not leave. Upon the colonel's hesitation, Captain Helia gave a slight nod. The City hummed happily to him, but there was something else. He did not trust any of them, but they _were_ the original inhabitants.

He stepped through the gate, feeling apprehensive, but optimistic. Kind of.

"Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, Doctor Weir. Welcome back to Earth." General Hank Landry's voice thundered across the 'gate room.

Steeling himself for the next step, Sheppard parted ways with the expedition leader. Elizabeth nodded sadly, and gave his arm a final squeeze. She knew what had to be done. After helping settle all things Atlantean, two hours later the colonel remembered his duffle somewhere in the 'gate room. When he returned, he found General Landry standing with another man.

"Ah, there you are, Colonel. Sergeant Siler here will escort you to your new quarters."

Sheppard's heart sank. Although he already knew what would happen as soon as he returned, the colonel still felt extreme disappointment. The SGC had an oppressive quiet that threw everything off balance. "Yessir," he said quietly, yet firmly to the spot just to the left of the general's head. He followed the silent man out of the 'gate room with heavy feet. Would he ever get used to the chain of command again?

"And, Colonel," the general said softly. "Get some rest. You look like you could use it."

"Yes, sir."

As they walked down the endless, non-descript halls of the underground facility, Sheppard kept his face blank, nodding politely to passing military and civilian personnel. He tried to forget the look on Rodney Mckay's face the day before when they said their good byes.

"_It's not forever, you know," McKay had said, his countenance set in a scowl. _

_But the colonel had no response. None verbal anyway. He remembered trying to smile, then made his face become unreadable. It was his only defense against further questioning by the scientist. He had given McKay a polite nod, and turned on his heel to leave. _

"_It's not forever, Sheppard!" Rodney had called out from behind. "Look, if you need to talk to someone–"_

_Sheppard turned back, knowing his friend was right. However, there was nothing to talk about. The City was lost to him. To everyone. And if the remaining Ancients were kind enough, the small band of Earthlings would be able to return for a short time._

"_See ya later, McKay. Drop me an email sometime."_

"Here we are, sir." Sergeant Siler cut through the colonel's gloomy thoughts.

They reached his dark, windowless quarters two decks... above? Or below? The colonel had always made it a point to know exactly where he was at all times, but he was too distracted. "Um, thanks, Sergeant." Once he was alone, Sheppard stopped himself from his next action. The SGC would never replace Atlantis, and he could not nudge it for directions. And he definitely could not hide his location.

He dropped his duffle on the bed, and sat down next to it wearily. The room was spartan in furnishing, dark, and strangely comfortable. But he would have to get used to communal locker rooms and showers for the time being. Once again, a nagging headache was making itself known. The silence all around him was deafening, and the cold lighting hurt his eyes, bringing nausea. Or was Atlantis really that loud?

A knock at the door pulled him out of his ever-present melancholic thoughts. "Come in," he said in a voice quieter than he expected. To his surprise, the door swung open to reveal a tall lanky frame. "Sir!" Sheppard stood quickly at attention.

"Oh, knock it off, Sheppard." Jack O'Neill waved a dismissive hand. "At ease, or whatever." Hands in pockets, he wandered into the dimly lit room. "Not the best place to spend your day off, ya know."

Sheppard looked around the small room with a twinge of – what? Anger? Regret? "I thought you were still on Atlantis." He shrugged out of his tac vest, but left the jacket on.

"Nah," O'Neill made a face. "Someone had to give you the grand tour."

The colonel tried not to look concerned. This meant Woolsey was there to negotiate. "You're not worried about the IOA screwing everything up?" The knot in his stomach tightened as he watched the general shuffle his feet.

"Why don't you let me deal with Woolsey and the IOA. Listen," O'Neill looked Sheppard straight in the eye, trying to get behind that damned mask of indifference. "You can't stay here forever. You'll go crazy. We'll help ya find a place off-base and –" The general stopped when he saw Sheppard's face. _Gotcha!_ "Well, not right away, of course. Get settled here first. Then I'll worry about your pasty complexion."

"Sir?" Sheppard could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"That's better," O'Neill smiled. "You just look a bit peaked, is all." He jerked his elbow toward the door. "Come on. I'll show you to your office, and we'll get some grub."

Zipping his jacket, colonel followed general out into the halls. Sheppard squinted against the bright lights; they were making him nauseous again. "An office, huh?" he asked, wondering about his assortment of files from Atlantis.

"Yeah. They're obligated to give you one when you can activate devices with your head."

Sheppard allowed a smile; anything else would send his head exploding off his neck. "So, um, what's with the lines on the floor?"

Jack O'Neill screwed up his face. "Ya know, I really don't remember anymore."

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TBC

Well, I hope this isn't sounding too cheesy.


	2. Five Weeks Ago

Thanks for reading! So we're in the next week. Of course this is waaay AU, but I think they would've kept Sheppard for more than just being on another SG team. And I think he would've had a bit of a time adjusting, though, of course, he'd never show it. Spiel done. Read on!

I don't own the characters. Someone way cooler and smarter than me thought of them.

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Five Weeks Ago

After returning from another doomed team-building exercise and a longer-than-necessary briefing, Sheppard walked slowly to the infirmary for yet another post-mission check. Bone-tired and just plain fed up, his mind wandered back to Atlantis. He never realized that he would ever miss McKay, and he would _never_ say that out loud. Trying not to appear as exhausted as he was, Sheppard picked up his head and his pace. The lines on the floor were mesmerizing.

Ahead, he saw Daniel Jackson speaking animatedly with another scientist. In his hands was a small orb-like object. Sheppard watched as they came closer, feeling a familiar hum. His step faltered as he passed them with a smile.

At once, they stopped talking. "This can't be Ancient... Colonel Sheppard!"

The colonel reluctantly stopped, pasting a patient smile on his face. "Doctor Jackson. What can I do for you?" The vibration intensified nearly driving him to his knees. Dots danced behind his eyes. Had he closed them?

Once the linguist stood in front of Sheppard, the orb lit up and sparkled in his hands. "What's wrong?" Daniel placed his hand on the colonel's arm as the man swayed. "Is it this?"

"I think so," Sheppard said quietly, rubbing his temple. "It's broken."

"How–? Oh! Carl, take this to my lab." Daniel handed it off to his companion. "Sorry. Sorry. It's been a while since I've had an artifact around someone who had the gene as strong as yours. Well, besides the chair. I mean, General O'Neill's gene can't do what yours can... It's almost like each person is designated to operate certain things well. Hmm..."

Sheppard could tell where this was going, so he decided on a preemptive strike. "I was just on my way to the infirmary. Maybe I could stop by your lab later?" _After some very strong ibuprofen, and maybe a long nap. Definitely lots of water; it's so dry here... Wait. Pay attention._

"...found a few things, but we're not sure from where. So is fifteen hundred hours okay?" Daniel was walking away, backwards.

"I'll see you then," the colonel said, waving instead of nodding. He entered the infirmary with squinted eyes, rubbing his temple.

"Another headache, Colonel?" Doctor Carolyn Lam slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. Admittedly, she was puzzled by Sheppard's frequent visits. Always the same symptoms, but never the same catalyst. Sometimes after a mission, sometimes it was in the middle of the night. She had ordered he stay once, and ran all the tests she could think of, from MRIs to blood scans. Still nothing.

"Yeah," he said breathlessly. His sensitivity to light had increased, and his pale face showed dark smudges under his eyes. "Need a post-mission, and maybe get something stronger?" It was wishful thinking, but he had to try. The silence was killing him, and now there was a broken gadget crying out to be fixed.

"Anything stronger, and I may have to hospitalize you." She took two steps closer to him, trying to see into his eyes. It seemed to be the only indicator of what may be going on with him. However, all she found was sadness and worry. In an instant, even that was gone; the impassive mask was up again. Sighing deeply, she moved away from his comfort zone and wandered into the main exam room. "Sit down, John," Doctor Lam said, a little more sharply than she intended.

He just needed to sleep. Alone, unwatched. "I, um, really can't–"

Carolyn narrowed her eyes at him, then softened. "Look, I'm sure you don't want to be here longer than you have to. These headaches may cause trouble on a mission, and I really want to get to the bottom of it. I can help, but you need to be honest." She reached out, laying a hand on his arm, remembering her bedside manner.

The colonel flinched involuntarily at her touch, and reluctantly sat on an exam bed. He closed his eyes, resigned, trying to imagine the walls of the infirmary on Atlantis. _Definitely prettier than Carson,_ he thought, and smiled just a little. Then he felt the thermometer in his ear, and heard its plaintive beep.

"You've got a low grade fever, Colonel Sheppard. After I run a few tests, I'd really like you to stay for a few hours." She immediately put up a hand to stall his protests. "What did you think I would say, Colonel? I suspect you already knew you had a fever, and no amount of Tylenol has kept it at bay. Am I right? So be still."

Sheppard opened and closed his mouth. "Fine," he said so quietly he barely heard himself. "Everyone else check out okay?"

"They're all the picture of health. A little worried about you though, Colonel," the doctor smiled warmly. "I know I'm not Carson Beckett, but I'm really looking out for you. Honest." Magically, she produced a set of scrubs, and held them out to him. "Get out of those damp clothes, and we'll get started, okay?" She pulled the curtain closed with a snap.

Sheppard wanted to be angry, but the farther he was from that device, the better. Had being away from The City left him more sensitive to Ancient objects? With his luck, maybe. Behind the curtain, he peeled off his BDUs not realizing they were wet. Had it rained? _Like I would notice._

_Snap out of it, civilian!_ The Colonel was stirring again. Weakness of any kind was unacceptable. _A reassignment got you all bent outta shape, soldier?_ The Colonel refused to back off, even with the threat of dizziness. _Some little machine is not going to bring you down, is it?_ The confrontation between John Sheppard and Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard in his head only made it hurt worse. He needed a referee.

Closing his eyes against the light, Sheppard settled against the pillows. In a manner of moments, he was drifting, the battle of personalities carried away in the fog. Again, he felt a touch on his arm. And again, he flinched. He wasn't ready to go into the whys and wherefores of his problems with contact. He opened his leaden eyelids.

"Just checking your vitals, John." The doctor looked down curiously at his wrist. "Colonel? When was the last time you've eaten?"

Sheppard furrowed his brow in thought. To be honest, he couldn't remember. But now was not the time to be _that_ honest. "I dunno, breakfast I guess."

"Can you believe they actually tried to make waffles this morning?" The doctor's eyes were wide and mischievous. "We almost ran out of syrup."

_Is this a trap?_ "Guess I missed it. Just grabbed a pastry and coffee, then went back to my quarters." _That should work._ The very thought of syrup and butter made his stomach churn.

Carolyn smiled curtly. "Fact is, Colonel, no one's seen you sit and eat a meal for the last three days. Except for coffee, of course."

The colonel's brow bounced up in surprise. _Dammit! What is it with doctors and their spies?_ "Okay. You got me. I do, however, have a secret stash of power bars." And he was _not_ going to squirm under her glare, no matter how uncomfortable he felt. _I have stared down Wraith queens. You've got nothing on them._ "Just haven't settled in yet. I'm fine."

Doctor Lam crossed her arms giving him one final look. "I'm giving you an IV, and you'll stay until it's gone." She finished inserting the port, then paused to look at him. "I don't want you to think you're being monitored. But in a way, you are. You just came back from a mysterious galaxy, and everyone is looking for a change. Most of them know you have a strange mutated gene that makes rooms light up of their own accord, and have a knack for flying anything. They all have questions, but are a little concerned about the answers."

"Are you saying I freak people out?"

"No, not at all. I'm just saying – hoping, really – that you'll get to know us better, and not shut yourself away. No matter how temporary that may be."

Sheppard leaned back with a sigh, closing his eyes. "Okay. No alienation of the troops. And I will try not to perpetuate said alienation by walking into doors."

She wanted to be concerned, but Carolyn could only laugh. "What is it like?" she asked, surprising herself. "I heard the reports, read Carson's medical files – which, by the way, are extensive for you. But what does it feel like?"

The colonel shrugged. "Have you ever put your tongue on a 9-volt battery?"

---------------

Somewhere in the three hours he spent in the infirmary, Sheppard fell into a restless slumber. He dreamed of long, polished corridors and balconies gleaming in the sun. He floated aimlessly above The City, circling it in a puddle jumper. A lone figure stood on one of the balconies. Aiming his jumper towards the figure, the pilot flew closer. The figure took shape, and his heart stopped.

Oberon.

Sheppard woke with a start, yanking out the IV port. Breathing heavily, he tried to untangle the blanket that had been wrapped around his over-warm body. _It was just a dream, John._ But he could not shake the feeling he was needed. The hollow silence greeted him, unnerving him further.

"Good nap?"

The voice nearly made him jump out of his skin, sending his heart into a flurry of beats. "I guess," he said trying to calm his shaking hands. "Sorry 'bout the IV."

"That's okay," the nameless nurse said as she picked up the dripping port. "I think it's just about done now."

Sheppard finally freed his feet and swung them over the side. "If you don't mind I'm gonna go to my quarters and clean up."

"Hang on one second, Colonel." Doctor Lam strolled back into the area, warming the stethoscope in her hands. "Are you all right? Your heart rate is –"

"Bad dream," the colonel said quickly.

"Must've been one hell of a dream." She handed over a soft cloth. "Still have a temperature, but I will let you leave on the condition that –"

"I eat something, get some sleep, and call if there's any problems. Know the drill, Doc."

The doctor stepped back to observe him for a moment. "Well, if you know it so well, please heed the instructions." Carolyn turned to a nurse. "Lucy, can you collect the colonel's jacket and boots?"

Sheppard visibly relaxed with the news. "Thanks, Doctor Lam." He actually felt better, even if the quiet was unbearable. Checking his watch, he absently grabbed his jacket from the waiting nurse. Two hours before he had to meet with Daniel Jackson. Stamping into his boots, he waved good bye.

When he arrived at the locker room, Sheppard nearly thought twice about the shower he was dying to take. _Too many damned people._ A place off-base was sounding better and better. Finally, he allowed the hot water to roll down his back, loosening the knots that had accumulated between his shoulder blades. This time he knew all the worry and sleepless nights would not wash away. He had to know if everything – everyone – was okay.

_It's only been a week, Sheppard!_ he scolded himself. _Stop it! If The Colonel comes back,_ he mused, _I'll never get any sleep! Oh my God! I'm schizophrenic!_ He opened eyes he scarcely knew he had closed, and slammed off the shower. _No more internal dialogue. Seriously._

Sheppard left the locker room quickly, slightly wet skin dampening the back of a fresh black tee shirt.

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At 14:55, Colonel Sheppard strolled into Daniel Jackson's lab. A short nap and a Tylenol had done wonders for his attitude. "Hey, Doc. What can I–" Immediately, three objects sprung to life on various shelves. "Well," he said breathlessly. These objects were related and emitted a sensory overloading hum. The colonel nearly backed right back out of the lab.

Daniel barely registered the colonel's distress. "That's amazing. I thought we got all the Ancient items to Area 51 or Antartica. This means– Colonel? Are you all right?"

Sheppard took a deep breath, pushing away the intense vibration. "I'm fine. Just surprised." He moved slowly to the object he had seen earlier. "I think I can fix this one, but the others... If I were on Atlantis, The City would tell me how to fix them."

"Really? I suppose it would. Like going on the internet to find out how to fix something, I guess. To be honest, I'm more than a little jealous. To be able to feel what's right and wrong with your surroundings. Open and close doors with a thought. Have you been able to translate any of the language?" Light danced in the crystal blue eyes, making them sparkle with curiosity.

"Not really. I mean, I understand what's happening, but as far as reading it, no." The taller man placed thin, gentle fingers around the object. "Although a few times, I've spoken it, not knowing what I was saying. Barely remember it; just what I've been told. Ah!" He felt something shift into place, like a piece of a puzzle.

The object skewed and formed a new shape in the palm of his hand. A holographic image appeared, shimmering into a moving picture. It was a 'jumper view of Atlantis. Suddenly, his earlier nightmare came flooding back in his mind. The image flickered to show exactly what he had dreamed about. Sheppard immediately quelled the horrific thoughts and willed the object off.

"Isn't that Atlantis? What happened? " Daniel was standing very close, closer than he was before, peering over the colonel's shoulder. _When did he get there?_

Sheppard tried to cover his start by shifting away. "Nothing. I just turned it off." _I do not want to see that_ thing _ever again!_ Avoiding the linguist's eyes, the colonel moved to the shelves behind them. Cautiously, he reached for another object. "Well," he drawled. "What do we have here?" He had seen one in Rodney's lab once. Apparently, it was a portable X-ray device. Pulling it off the shelf, he asked it what was wrong. The static-like hum clarified, then overwhelmed his senses.

"Colonel? Maybe you should sit down," Daniel's distant voice said.

"Wha..? No, I'm... Whoa." The colonel flopped down harshly on a nearby couch, and he attempted to turn on the object after it was fixed. "I just saw through that wall." Blinking quickly, he looked at Daniel with a boyish grin. "Cool."

The archeologist smiled amiably. "Yes. That _is_ cool." Daniel sobered a bit. "Having such a strong connection must be a blessing and a curse, right?"

John Sheppard glanced away. "You don't know the half of it."

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I haven't written Daniel in so long, I don't think I have his voice any more. Sorry 'bout that. I'm beginning to think I shoulda written this in the first person... And this may be a wee bit OOC for Sheppard, but come on. This guy has got to have some _serious_ inner dialogue. This story started off so short! Now it's a monster.

Rawr.


	3. Four Weeks Ago

Whew! I'm back! Sorry for the delay! Now... Hello AU...

Oh, yeah, and it's Oberoth, not Oberon. Sorry 'bout that.

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Four weeks ago

He was beyond tired, but he had to continue assembling his new off-world team. Shrugging into his jacket, he grabbed his tac vest out of his locker and exited the room. On his way to the 'gate room, Sergeant Acker handed over a P90, and quickly told him of some new intel from the planet.

After quick re-introductions, they gathered at the foot of the ramp. With a nod, Sheppard signaled the technician to dial the 'gate. The first chevron locked, and the colonel felt apprehensive. _I don't know any of these people, so I can be a little nervous, right?_ It wasn't until Doctor Lam mentioned alienation, Sheppard hadn't realized why only a people had introduced themselves. He barely knew his new team members, but this time he actually read their files all the way through.

The SGC was a bustling place; someone was always going somewhere, doing something. No more lonely walks in empty corridors. No more escaping to balconies to stare out at the foreign stars and the illuminated city.

_Stop._

_This is your life now._

"Let's move out!"

The mission nearly went off without a hitch until Babbis got too close to a ravine, stumbling twenty feet down to a babbling brook. As much as the colonel wanted to yell and rant – possibly throwing the biggest temper tantrum since he stole Rodney's last chocolate bar – he decided against it. The only one who could handle his mood right now was Rodney McKay.

When he returned to the SGC, the colonel blandly briefed General Landry as he tramped down the metal ramp. As he released Sergeant Wallace to the med crew, he explained the sergeant's injury. The general made a comment about chemistry, and Sheppard nearly snorted. _I should email Rodney..._ An alarm sounded, alerting everyone of an incoming wormhole.

"Hold on, Colonel.You should get a kick out of this. That should be General O'Neill, and his scheduled check in from Atlantis."

Sheppard hesitated briefly. _A kick out this? I doubt it. They're in my city, living in my home while I'm –_ "He went back, sir?"

"Woolsey needed a little back-up. The Ancients find him a bit trying... Imagine that."

The colonel mumbled distractedly, following the general into the communications room. As soon as he entered, he felt The City, and it threw him momentarily. Suddenly, his vest was too tight, and the air was stuffy. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and opened them again. Sheppard sent a thought of greeting toward the screen, hoping Atlantis would calm down. Almost immediately, The City dampened its output.

"General!" Jack O'Neill's jovial voice came from the screen.

"General!"

"Is that Sheppard with you?"

The colonel nearly missed the question, trying to get information from his home. "Yes, sir." _How can Atlantis do this? I'm a galaxy away, and I feel like I'm right there!_ If he were near a console, a HUD would have popped up. _That device Doctor Jackson found... Pay attention, John._

"... the Replicators are heading back to the city."

"They are?" the colonel asked dumbly. He had to stall a bit longer to decipher what The City was trying to convey. He saw their lips moving, but all he heard was a hum.

Something. Something about Asurans...

"If you hadn't rescued the Ancients, and returned The City to their care..."

The colonel's breath caught, as pain sliced through his head. As soon as it happened, it was gone. "I would have lost The City anyway," he said quietly.

"Right," the general affirmed. "Well, we got to get back to our talks. And talks and talks. O'Neill out."

The transmission was suddenly cut, and left Sheppard swaying into the general. "Sorry, sir." He turned to face Landry, trying ignore the room spinning. "If you like, sir, I'd be happy to tell you a little more about these Replicator guys..."

The general shook his head. "Sounds like they've got everything under control," he said, then exited the comm room. "Listen, Colonel. Why don't you visit Doctor Lam – don't start with me, Sheppard. Don't think I haven't seen your pale skinny ass wandering these halls at night." A small smile bent his stiff lips. "And if I know Carolyn Lam correctly, she will hunt you down, son." Landry turned on his heel and left.

Sheppard stood a little straighter; he wasn't quite prepared for a dressing down today. His headache was reaching new heights as he left the room. The urgent plea from The City left him empty and frustrated as he tried to figure out what was going on. While he did not plan on seeing Doctor Lam, he agreed with the general. If he didn't show for his post-mission, she _would_ hunt him down.

After handing off his gun and constricting tac vest to the nearest soldier, Sheppard headed off to the infirmary. He needed to check on Wallace anyway, and perhaps casually mention Motrin. This will never work...

"Colonel Sheppard. Good to see you again," the doctor said cheerily. Judging by the look on Wallace's face, she had heard how the soldier broke his ankle.

"Doctor Lam," the colonel returned the greeting, plastering a smile on his face. "Wallace, how ya doin'?"

"Fine, sir. Hurts a bit."

"Nice job setting it, by the way, Colonel," Carolyn said.

"Thanks. I've had a little practice," he said quietly.

The doctor grabbed a chart, and surreptitiously studied the colonel's face. Sheppard was trying not to squint against the light, and absently rubbed his temple. "Why don't you take that exam bed over there, and we'll quickly do your post check." For a fleeting moment, surprise registered on his face, then it was gone. He nodded once and climbed onto the bed.

A few minutes later, she rattled off a prescription for Wallace, and moved in Sheppard's direction. Carolyn paused when she saw the colonel staring off into space. He was evidently puzzling out something; his lips were moving and he kept patting his pockets looking for something. "Need a pen?"

Sheppard startled, hopping off the bed into a defensive position. Normally, his eyes were a vague hazel green; right now, they were bottle-green and hard. She blinked in surprise, wondering is this the soldier she had heard so much about. The Colonel from the stories seemed to be exaggerated, but seeing that look in his eye made her rethink her assessment. Again, it vanished in the space of a few seconds. The expressionless mask slipped into place, and the darkness was vanquished. He straightened, and she saw the lopsided smile slide across his lips. Carolyn watched this transformation with acute interest.

"Sorry 'bout that," he grinned. "You kinda scared me."

"I can see that, Colonel." She slowly removed her hands from her pockets when she noticed he was watching her closely. "Why don't we do this quickly, so you can rest up a bit."

With a sigh, Sheppard sat back down, turning the intensity of his gaze down a notch. Eventually, only weariness showed, his eyes back to normal. "I've got a couple things to report, and then maybe–"

"No, Colonel." Carolyn tentatively placed a hand on his arm. "I'd like you to at least try for a couple hours of sleep."

"But I've gotta... um... the general... Yes, ma'am." _A little nap couldn't hurt, right?_

She let him go, watching him curiously. "Eat, take pills, sleep. In that order, Colonel."

_Pills? Ah!_ The colonel noticed her removing a small bottle of pills from her pocket. The best Motrin ever. He licked his lips in anticipation. Sleep, darkness, and oblivion was waiting for him – only if he got those pills. The colonel put on his best charming face and waited, holding out his hand.

She placed the bottle in his hand and smiled. "Oooh, you're good," Carolyn commented. "You sleep, and I will deal with the general." The doctor smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. Jerking her head towards the door, she said, "Now beat it, kid."

Sheppard gave a salute, and changed his plans for visiting Daniel Jackson. He left the infirmary, bottle tightly clutched in his hand, and actually headed for the mess hall. A little soup sounded nice and warm. The day was looking up. Finally.

---------------

The phone rang as Carolyn Lam reached for it. Glancing quickly at the clock, she answered. "Good morning, General."

"Did Colonel Sheppard make it down to see you?"

"He did. I told him to get lunch and get a couple hours' sleep. Hope you don't mind, sir."

Carolyn could almost see the grimace on her father's face as he replied. "I don't. In fact, I was hoping you'd tell him."

"Well, he was concerned about getting you his report on time."

The general chuckled. "I never expect anything right away, but it's nice to see someone eager to get something in on time. Anything else I should know about?"

The doctor paused, wondering if she should tell the general exactly what was going on with their new lieutenant colonel. "He seems to be suffering some sort of withdrawal. But today, something was different."

"We got a call from Atlantis. General O'Neill spoke with him briefly. Sheppard had a dizzy spell, too. Then he seemed fine."

"Did he? That explains the headache today."

"You're thinking it has something to do with that damned city, aren't you?"

Carolyn smiled. "I am. I don't see how that's possible. He did mention that he could feel The City, like a vibration. But it shouldn't be invasive in that way, right?"

"General O'Neill described it as pins and needles in your brain."

"The colonel said it was like putting your tongue on a 9-volt battery. So evidently, it's uncomfortable, yet oddly pleasant."

"That's the only way to describe it, I reckon." There was a mumble in the background. "Thank you for keeping me apprised of the situation, Doctor Lam. I'm sure you'll let me know of any new developments."

"Yes sir."

"Good." With an abrupt click, the line was dead.

Smiling to herself, Carolyn hung up the phone, and decided to pay the colonel a visit in one hour.

-------------

John Sheppard nervously paced his room, blanket wrapped around his body, snagging his feet now and again. After a very long shower, he couldn't shake the cold jittery feeling. Now he felt restless and loathe to lie down or sit still for anything. The hum he felt from The City lingered; he knew it had something to do with the devices locked up in Daniel Jackson's lab. The buzzing in his head lessened as he sat down heavily on his bed.

Focusing on the vibration, Sheppard closed his eyes, getting a fix on its location. _What's your damage? I'm trying to sleep!_ The item in question got the connection from Atlantis and needed to be returned. His body relaxed once he appeased the object, and he barely felt the cool sheets as he tipped sideways. A small sigh escaped his lips as he slipped into the warm arms of sleep.

--------------

Carolyn Lam smiled pleasantly at a Marine standing at Sheppard's door. "Standing guard, soldier?"

The dark man gave a sheepish grin. "No, ma'am. Just came by to ask a few questions, but he's not answering."

The doctor nodded slowly. "Well, he was a little tired this afternoon."

"Yes, ma'am. That's what I thought. We were supposed to go over some drills, but I wanted him to know I'd take care of it."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that, Sergeant. In fact, I've come to check on him myself." She moved to open the door; the colonel never seemed to lock anything. "Mind if I pass along your message?"

The sergeant looked a little relieved. "That would be fine, Ma'am." He tipped his head, turned on his heel, and walked away.

The doctor knocked twice before entering. In the dimly lit room, she saw a bundle of blankets half on, half off the bed. Leaning down, she lifted the colonel's feet onto the bed, gently straightening his body. A quiet moan came from the depths of the blankets, and Sheppard curled into a ball.

Carolyn reached inside to carefully peel back the blanket. Eventually, she revealed a pale, sleeping face. She brushed away the hair plastered to his forehead by sweat. "Well, you're temp's back, Colonel," she whispered. At this moment, she realized she could do nothing to chase away whatever it was holding his health hostage. At least he's finally sleeping. Fishing for a wrist, she quickly checked his pulse. "A little fast, but I think you'll live." She studied his face again. Gone was the stone-faced soldier. In his place was a youngish face, unmarred by a recent nightmare, or infinite worry.

The doctor lay a hand on his cheek once more. Hopefully, the slight fever would abate when he woke. Quietly she left the room, wondering exactly what went on in that head.

A few minutes after the door closed, Colonel Sheppard sat bolt upright, breathing heavily. The device in Daniel's lab pinged him again, but the colonel longed for nothing but sleep. _Soon,_ he thought, drifting away to darkness yet again. The pull of sleep was to great, and he welcomed it.

----------------

TBC

Why can't I have one of those devices where you speak into it and it automagically types things out for you?


	4. Three Weeks Ago

A/N: Sorry for the delay once again! There's been some excellent fic right now, and I admit to getting side-tracked. Then my jumpdrive went kaput, and took all my stuff with it. So I've had to retype and rewrite sections of this chapter. Annoying, yes? After much ado, here it is... It's also a little longer than the others, I think. So... enjoy! Support your local addict... please R&R!

Chapter 4

Three Weeks Ago

"Hey, Elizabeth. It's Sheppard. Just... you know... calling to see how you are. Again. I... It's just...umm. Well, I'll talk to you later."

Another week, another message. Why wouldn't she call back? Sheppard knew she had not been anywhere since they returned. No trips, no speeches, no lectures. Was it him?

The colonel sighed heavily, and abandoned his too-quiet office in a hurry. He had kept himself very busy over the week, and even got to sleep now and again. The silence always bothered him, but he seemed to be more irritated that he was getting used to it. Even his persistent headache was more manageable, and could be shoved aside when he needed to think. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard had fallen into a routine.

Smiling to himself, he glanced up, and found he was standing in front of the mess hall. _Now how did I get here?_ His stomach gave a low growl in answer. Great. Maybe one of these days I'll do my own thinking. A louder growl replied. "Fine!" He entered the commissary in search of very soft, quiet food.

_Chewy, crunchy, crunchy, chewy – Trying not to aggravate a headache, people! _Passing everything and heading straight for the side dishes, he got a couple helpings of mashed potatoes and spinach.

"You come on back if you need somethin' else, sugar," the throaty voice behind the counter said. Gloria Jones was a very tall black woman who had decided he needed to stop sulking. She said as much one day before magically producing the last brownie for him. _She could give Ronon a run for his money._ "I'll always have somethin' for you, child."

He gave her the most charming grin he could, without upsetting the jackhammers. "What will I do without you?"

That earned him a deep, rich laugh. "Sweetie, nobody starves on my watch. Go eat before that gets cold, and take your grin with you."

He chuckled, tipping his head in farewell. The commissary wasn't crowded, but the open tables were scattered. God, he missed his balcony. Just as his stomach flipped, he heard a familiar brogue.

"Colonel!" A voice from behind made him cringe just a little. Carson Beckett.

"Hey, Doc," Sheppard said neutrally. He would have tried for carefree, but the doctor would have seen through that instantly. He already used his best smile for Gloria; the one he held now made his face hurt.

"I'm so glad I finally caught ye," Beckett said as he surreptitiously watched his former patient walk slowly to a table. "Interesting combination of, er, food ya got there." _Soft food? Headache._

The colonel knew he would be followed. _How can you be starving and nauseous at the same time? This is unfair! _They sat down at the table, and Sheppard felt the intense blue gaze on him. Beckett's x-ray eyes were working overtime, as they quickly raked over his body. _I'm so not getting out of this._ After forcing a few bites down, he decided to focus on the doctor. "How's the genetic, um, thing coming along?"

The amiable doctor smiled, watching the colonel absently shove his food around his plate between bites. "I'm doing well, thank you. So, Colonel," Beckett tried for casual tones and failed. "How's the headache?"

_Dammit! Do not fall apart now, Sheppard!_ "What do you mean? I –"

The doctor stalled the 'I'm fine' answer with a wave of his hand. "When was the last time you thought you could fool me, lad?" He took a sip of his tea, letting the steam warm his face. "Right now, ye look nearly as green as yer food there."

Sheppard looked down at his plate. He had been absently making trails in his mashed potatoes, which had turned green from the spinach. Sighing deeply, he let his fork blaze more trails. "I can't shake it, Doc," he finally confessed. "Last week there was a transmission from Atlantis." Letting his fork drop, Sheppard allowed himself to think about his city.

_Shimmering spires rising high above the glistening waters. The unexplored depths, the unexplored parts of The City. Would he ever go back? He felt weightless and heavy all at once, like the first time he touched one of those devices. The device!_

"Colonel? Wake up," a familiar voice whispered frantically.

Sheppard blinked sleepily, then gave a jaw-cracking yawn. "Sorry. Must've – Oh, hey!" He was suddenly more awake. "We should go down to Daniel's lab. He's got three Ancient objects down there, and –"

The doctor started laughing, despite the circumstances. "Tell ya what..." He slid a bowl of soup over to the colonel, who spotted the retreating back of Gloria. "Eat this, then we'll go bother Doctor Jackson." He watched the colonel frown, then shrug his shoulders. After taking a tentative bite, Sheppard seemed to asses the situation.

The greenish tint marring his face earlier had cleared. Sheppard smiled a little. "So, what do ya say, Doc? Help me figure out if I'm going crazy?"

Beckett seemed pleased, as he glanced down at the empty bowl of soup. _See! Rodney's not the only one who can convince the colonel to eat!_ "Certainly. One condition, though," he said, waiting for the rolled eyes. "As soon as we're done, yer off ta bed."

"Sure thing." As they rose from the table, Sheppard noted the absence of headache and nausea. Things were looking up!

He gave Carson some background on finding out the paperweights were actually Ancient tools. "But one didn't activate until after the transmission from Atlantis. It's like she wants me to see something."

"Isn't that just wishful thinking, John?" Carson said bluntly. "I hear ye've been havin' a bit o' trouble assembling a team."

The colonel narrowed his eyes at the doctor. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it immediately. A not-so-nice smile bent his lips. "Takin' psychology again, Doc?" He expected the doctor to turn tail, indignantly huffing away.

Beckett merely shrugged. "Just an observation, Colonel." He wasn't about to let Sheppard out of his sight just yet, no matter how much he sulked. "And, as I recall, yer track record with Ancienty objects is not good."

The colonel grinned. "Me and Ancienty things are fine. It's Rodney that gets us in trouble! Besides, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Och! Famous last words..." He stumbled forward as Sheppard took hold of his arm, pulling him toward the elevator.

---------------------

They entered the lab, cautiously avoiding broken shards of stone perched precariously on edges of tables. Books and paper stacked everywhere, on the verge of toppling over, looked like a fortress around one desk. Sheppard immediately felt the happy hum of the other objects, and sent them thoughts of quiet.

"Doctor Jackson?" The colonel listened for a mumbled answer from behind the fortress. "I came by to try that device again," he said softly.

Beckett watched this behavior with great interest. Then he saw the SG-1 member rise stiffly; the man looked like he had a beastly headache to go along with the fresh cut across his cheek. The colonel seemed to know that the archaeologist would be jumpy, and spoke softer than he expected. There was no bandage, so Carson knew he had not been for his post-mission check. Instinctively, the doctor reached out to Daniel. "Ya all right, son?"

Daniel waved his hand impatiently, much the way Rodney would, and slipped on an unreadable mask, much like John. His normally vivid blue eyes were dull with exhaustion, as he moved closer to the visitors. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." He turned his attention to the pensive colonel standing near a shelf. "I'm not sure which one, but, uh, feel free to take a look." Daniel watched as the colonel reached blindly behind him, snatching an orb off the shelf.

Re-focusing his gaze the onlookers, Sheppard smiled brilliantly. "Thanks, Daniel!" He walked past the bleary linguist, excited by his new mission.

"Thank ye very much, Doctor. He'll get it back to ye soon," Carson said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "You take care of that cut, and I'll see to the colonel."

Gasping, Daniel checked his bare wrist. "What time is it?"

"Nineteen hundred hours, Doc." The colonel shuffled impatiently, inching towards the door. "And I don't think Doctor Lam will be too happy with you."

Daniel self-consciously touched his cheek. "You would know," he said, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. Following the two men out, he hugged his laptop to his chest. "Hey, uh, do you mind if I stop by later? Check your progress, take some notes..."

"Yeahsureyabetcha," Sheppard said, hastily moving in the direction of the elevator.

Beckett reached over and grabbed the colonel by the arms. "O' course ya can, lad. In the meantime," he said switching to full mother hen mode. "Get that cut cleaned up, and get some rest. A nice hot meal wouldn't hurt either –"

"Thanks again, Doctor Jackson," Sheppard said, steering the good doctor away. "We'll see you later. Come on, Carson." They left the bewildered linguist standing outside his lab.

The Scot looked back once, watching the man shuffle away. "Maybe we should –"

"He'll be fine," Sheppard said quietly, distracted by the object again. _How am I gonna fix you?_

Lengthening his stride to match the long-legged pilot, Beckett shook his head tsking sadly. "Poor lad looked knackered. I wonder if he's even slept..." The doctor folded his arms across his chest. "What am I sayin'? Two peas in a pod, the both of ya."

Sheppard smiled fondly, clapping a hand on Beckett's shoulder. "Missed you, too, Carson."

---------------------

"Look, John," Beckett said as they entered the colonel's room. "I know Carolyn would like to see you before you turn in tonight."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes, feeling his headache returning. "And you know that, how? I –"

Beckett raised his hands to stall the excuse. "That's yer responsibility, not mine. I'm nae yer doctor anymore." He crossed his arms again, looking intrigued. "So, then. What is this device ye've found?"

"Not sure yet."

"Why don't ye take a rest first? Start fresh tomorrow? I'm sure this can't be good for that headache."

"Do you feel that?" All traces of immediate exhaustion were overridden by sharp, glittering eyes eager to learn.

"Aye. Maybe –" Beckett had a bad feeling when the device started glowing faintly. Once again, the colonel's curiosity had gotten the better of him, and that meant trouble. He had to put a stop to this! Reaching out, he placed his hand on the colonel's, fingertips brushing the object briefly. "Put this down, and get some –"

Then he felt the white noise turn into a vibration that moved from his fingers to his feet. He watched dimly as his companion swayed, and raised a hand to steady him. Beckett tried to free them of the object, but their hands seemed glued to it. "Colonel, I think..."

"Yeah..."

They both fell to the floor unconscious, in a heap.

------------------

Daniel Jackson wandered down the corridor trying to ignore the slight pain from his cheek. He stopped to ask a Marine which was their newest member's room; when you're tired everything looks the same. Turning around, he mumbled his thanks as he retraced his steps to a non-descript door.

He knocked twice, and there was still no answer. The door was unlocked, so he entered the dimly lit room. "Hello?"

The man in question lay on the floor, shivering. His companion lay next to him, both their hands clutched around the glowing Ancient device. _And he thought Carolyn would be mad at me?_

Daniel stepped over the prone bodies to get to the phone. "Doctor Lam?"

"_Hey, Daniel. Bad symptoms already?"_

"No, no. I'm gonna need a medical team to Colonel Sheppard's quarters immediately."

"_What's he done now?"_

----------------------

"Whoa! This is very cool!" Sheppard looked all around him. _This is Atlantis!_

"Colonel, I'm not so sure I like this."

"Come on, Doc. Sense of adventure, remember?" He closed his eyes to get his bearings, then struck off toward the control room. "Let's find out what these Ancients are up to."

"Can they nae see us?" Carson said, as a person walked through him. The colonel was smiling dangerously. "I dinnae like the look in yer eye, lad." He watched Sheppard turn quickly into a wall and disappear.

He came out again ahead of the disconcerted doctor. "Hey, don't look at me like that. Didn't you ever want to walk through walls and be invisible?"

"Aye, every time ye sneaked outta my infirmary."

Finally, they made their way to the control room.There was a flurry of activity; the Asurans would arrive sooner than expected. Sheppard and Beckett stood on the landing overlooking the Gate and the embarkation ramp.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" General Jack O'Neill stood next to Captain Helia, hands in his pockets.

"It is our problem, and we will handle it. If you feel you are in danger, you may leave at any time."

O'Neill tensed at her bluntness. "Look, all I'm sayin'," he drawled. "It's in both our interests to protect this city. You help us, we help you."

The captain looked at the general, puzzled. "I – we – appreciate your offer, and I will let know if we require your services." She had expected the man to bristle further, but instead he grinned, tossing his hands in the air.

"That's what friends are for!" O'Neill then glanced at his watch. "I'm gonna check on Woolsey. Maybe give the kids a break in there."

"I believe Quinar and Viden would welcome the interruption," Helia smiled her half-smile.

Jack squinted his eyes playfully. "I'll get a laugh out of you yet," he proclaimed, then walked casually over to the conference room.

The captain watched him go, allowing herself a grin.

"What is it with you two?" Carson said, sounding strangely like Rodney.

"Me and the general?" Sheppard rounded his eyes in mock innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about." They moved closer to a control console just behind the captain. Sheppard was tried to commit to memory what he saw with McKay in mind.

"Commander Holos. There is a presence here. Do you not feel it?"

Her very tall and dark 2IC drifted to her side. His sharp impossibly blue eyes scanned the area. "Yes. Two, yet one is stronger than the other."

Helia smiled. "I believe they are very curious. It appears they are using a device I have not seen in many years." She turned to face the invisible beings. "I assure you, Atlantis is in capable hands. You mustn't worry."

Sheppard and Beckett looked at each other, then back at the man and woman. The man held a cylindrical object in his hand. "I apologize, Curious Ones. Reentry to your physical bodies will be abrupt." The gadget flashed once, then twice after a slight pause. Suddenly, they were blinded by a bright light.

--------------------

In sickbay, Carolyn Lam closely examined her current patients. Two hours after they were wheeled in, they had still not gained consciousness. The object they held was still firmly in place; they had to be placed on the same gurney in order to get here. Now they rested on separate beds, however, they were pushed together. Both sported IVs, EEG and heart monitors.

Behind her, Daniel was rattling off details of a similar incident involving him and Vala. They had become other people on another planet, in a different time line. As he paced, he made notes and mumbled to himself about the Ancients and their devices.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "This could be a prototype. Colonel Sheppard mentioned that it was broken. Maybe he fixed it."

"Prototype or not, their vitals are all over the place. Both are dehydrated and have more imbalances than I –"

"It's drawing energy from them," Daniel interrupted. "The device is using them to power itself."

The medical doctor considered this. "Well, they were spotted earlier in the mess, so I know they've eaten. Can't worry too much about that now. But my main concern is the colonel. Physically, his symptoms are a little worse than Carson's, yet he's more calm."

"My theory is that object needed an Ancient gene to power it. The only one who could do that is Sheppard, but I'm guessing its power was too low to function. Enter Doctor Beckett –"

"Who also has the gene, and now you've got a nine volt battery." Carolyn chuckled to herself. At his questioning glance, she waved a hand dismissively. "Something the colonel said earlier. Anything else?"

"Maybe. I think it was another abandoned, or modified project." Daniel removed his glasses and rubbed his temple gently, avoiding the bruise on his cut cheek.

"Took too much out of its operators."

The monitors began beeping wildly. Suddenly, both men sat bolt upright, gasping.

"Whoa!"

"Bloody hell!"

Blinking furiously, they looked at each other. Sheppard smiled and Beckett withdrew his hand, flexing it slowly. "Colonel. That... that was..."

"Amazing! I –"

"Colonel Sheppard! Can you tell me what happened?" The doctor whipped out a penlight to shine in his eyes.

"Och! We're in the infirmary. How –"

"Doctor Beckett, I'm going to ask you to keep still until I've examined you."

Carson blinked again, finally relaxing. "O' course, lass."

She couldn't help but frown at 'lass.' "Colonel? How do you feel?"

Sheppard didn't miss the frown, and nearly laughed. He sobered before he answered. "Fine. Actually, really fine. Headache's almost gone."

"What about the hum?" Beckett asked, out of habit.

Before he could answer, Daniel took a step towards his bed. "Where were you?" he blurted.

The colonel frowned slightly, stealing a glance toward his friend and former physician. Sheppard carefully placed the device next to him on the bed. "Atlantis."

"In the past? Did you have names? Did you get to see your faces –"

"Doctor Jackson!" The petite SGC doctor placed a hand on Daniel's chest. "Please. I need to examine these two gentlemen right now. I'd appreciate if you hold off on your inquiries until later."

The linguist looked surprised for a moment, then seemed to realize what was going on around him. "Oh! Yes, yes, of course." He took a few steps back. "I'll just be, um, right over here."

Sheppard absently grabbed the object again, and settled back against the pillows. It had grown cold, and no longer winked at him. For all intents and purposes, it was dead. Whatever Holos did not only kicked them out, but also permanently turned off the device.

"All right, Colonel. I'm going to keep you here for a bit longer. So get comfortable, go to sleep, whatever." She watched him toy with the IV port. "That stays in 'til it's gone. No arguments."

"Fine." Sheppard folded his hands in his lap. "Doctor Jackson. You may now ask me questions," he said, waving over the pacing archaeologist.

"This won't take long, Colonel."

"But," the doctor waved a severe finger at Daniel. "If he starts falling asleep, you will _not_ wake him."

Daniel audibly gulped, then nodded. "Understood."

As she turned, the doctor spotted her colleague scooting towards the edge of the bed. "And where do you think you're going?"

The colonel watched the scene with keen interest. It was true that doctors make the worse patients. Who wants to be poked and prodded for hours?

"So," Daniel pulled up a chair next to the bed. He wanted to make sure Sheppard was showing no visible signs of fatigue, but he was still quite pale. _Not as bad as before, anyway._ At the moment, he wore a lopsided smile.

"What can I tell ya?" Feeling his neck stiffen, Sheppard rolled on his side, careful of the IV.

"Were you someone else?"

"No. As far as I could tell, we were ourselves. No one could see us, but a couple of Ancients felt our presence and sent us back."

Daniel's brows rose. "Really? So were you in the past?"

"Nope," the colonel said, stifling a yawn. "It was the present."

A furrow now appeared, marring the man's fine brow. "I don't see how – Really?"

"Really. I was worried about my – Atlantis." _It's not your city anymore! Get over it!_ He handed the device back to Daniel. "I have a feeling it would've taken me anywhere."

He studied it closely, still fascinated despite it being broken. "Very interesting. I've come across similar devices, but this one appears to be a prototype."

"Hmm."

Daniel looked up to find the colonel's eyes drifting closed. "We'll talk later, John."

"...'kay."

Moving towards the two medical doctors, Daniel cleared his throat. They had been quietly arguing about John Sheppard. When they didn't acknowledge his presence, he shook his head. Now, he knew how Jack and Sam felt when he was stuck in the infirmary. _It's comforting to know your friends will try anything to get you out of the nice doctor's clenches, I guess._

He wandered back to Sheppard's bed, pulling the folded blanket from under his feet. Shaking it out, he placed it over the sleeping man. Gathering his belongings, Daniel Jackson left the infirmary to get some sleep himself.

---------------------

The next morning, Sheppard woke refreshed and hungry. He spotted a glass of water on the bedside table. Reaching out, he noticed the IV was gone. Draining the glass, he threw back the thin blanket and stood. He looked around the drawn curtain to find Carson gone, and the infirmary deserted. Grabbing his clothes, Sheppard stealthily exited the medical area.

The colonel had a mission tomorrow to prepare for, and he knew he'd have to convince General Landry that everything would be okay from now on. Atlantis was in good hands, and he would have to accept that. I don't have to like it. Entering the locker room, he took a very long shower.

Sheppard made it back to his quarters without incident, and began to plan the day. First stop, the commissary.

Yes, indeed. Things _were_ certainly looking up!

-----------------------

TBC

Good grief! That was rough! But thanks to everyone for being so patient and reviewing! Two and a half more chapters to go! I think...


	5. Two Weeks Ago

Thanks to everyone who keep reading and reviewing! Chapter 4 probably wasn't my strongest, so sorry 'bout that. Procrastination is never good.

Thanks so much for everyone sticking around! I gotta finish this up! For those who haven't seen all of Season 3, it starts on April 13 in most of the U.S. At least in Colorado. Oh, and there's some allusion to Affinity, but you don't have to read the story to know what's going on...

"Well, Colonel," Doctor Carolyn Lam said with a smile. "Everything checks out. How's your sleep?"

The colonel gave her an evasive smile. "Not bad. Really. It's amazing what a little comfort food and sunshine will do for the soul."

"It's true, Doc." Sergeant Louisa Mae Abbott chimed in from the next exam bed. Sheppard had had to mentally check himself to not make jokes about _Little Women._ "He actually slept through the night twice in a row!" She smiled and gave him a wink.

Carolyn eyed them both suspiciously. She had a feeling the colonel would sleep better off-world than anywhere on Earth. While she wasn't completely satisfied, the doctor was relieved. "At any rate, I'm glad not to see so much of your bones, John."

Now Sheppard laughed. "We spent nearly a week in a village that celebrated everything with a feast." Honestly, he was feeling more himself than he had in a long time. "One of the leaders' wives made these –"

"Lemon bars," his 2IC, Major Randy Travers interrupted with a huge grin on his face.

"Yes! Although it wasn't exactly lemon, but close enough." He could hear Rodney's complaints as clear as day.

"I'm glad it was a good mission, Colonel. You're all free to go. Let me know if you need anything." Carolyn was, of course speaking more to Sheppard, but he refused to acknowledge that. "Major Travers, take care of that wrist for the next few days." She watched them go, hearing them talk about the rest of the day's activities. _Welcome back, Colonel..._

-------------------

Sheppard left the infirmary without replacing his jacket. For once, Cheyenne Mountain did not feel like a grave. He immediately headed over to the locker room for a very long shower. Letting the water melt away the knots in his back, Sheppard suddenly wished for the giant tub they had been using in the Choran village. _I'll even take the bubbles..._

A brief memory flashed, as he thought about Teyla's ceremonial bath. Wherever she is, whatever she's doing, she must be adjusting better than I am. I hope. His thoughts lingered on the only time he had connected so deeply to an outpost, that Atlantis shied away from him. Now, she wants him back. And as a reminder, one of those ancient Ancient objects pinged him again. He let out a groan and viciously thought, _Stop! Turn off now!_

Leaving the shower, Sheppard toweled himself off vigorously.

"You might want to leave some skin for later, sir."

Lieutenant Sykes was about to leave when he heard his CO. The man had red blotches on his cheeks, and seemed a little angry. Now, he looked like a deer in headlights. The expression was short-lived as that strangely unreadable mask slipped into place. Sykes knew the slow, easy smile came next, then in a lazy voice, his new team leader would tell him to back off in the nicest way possible.

Instead, Sheppard self-consciously laughed. "I'll remember that next time," was all he said as he quickly dressed. Tying his boots, he glanced up at the young lieutenant. "What's for lunch?"

The younger man visibly relaxed. "Not sure, but there's a rumor about Salisbury steak." _The man was so unpredictable!_ Sykes watched the colonel's easy smile fade a bit. "I know. Not the best news, right?"

"Just reminded me of someone, that's all." He rose, stretching fluidly like a cat. Stamping his boots, he tilted his head. "See ya there," he said with another lazy smile. Sheppard exited the locker room without looking back.

---------------------

It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Rodney McKay. In fact, it was just the opposite. While he was glad to hear a familiar voice, the astrophysicist's obvious unhappiness gnawed at him. Sheppard could tell Rodney missed him too, but the colonel found it difficult to listen any further. The loneliness, and the frustration were too much to bear, yet Sheppard agreed to meet with him at the end of the week.

Their conversation was reduced to monosyllabic answers from the colonel, and exasperated comments from the scientist. Sheppard thought about telling the scientist of his adventures with a certain alien device, but changed his mind. The whole incident had left him feeling empty and off-center.

He didn't have to cut McKay off; his friend seemed to sense his uneasiness. "You know I hate it when you do that."

"What?"

"Agree to everything. I doubt you even know what I'm saying."

"Yep."

A short sigh came over the speaker. "I'll see you later."

And then he was gone.

Sheppard rose and stretched. He was tired, but it was a good tired, the kind where you know you're going to sleep deeply. He wandered out of his office, and headed for the commissary.

When he arrived, he immediately saw his new team. i It's time to get to know everyone a little better. /i Major Travers waved him over, and the colonel felt a little more than relieved.

"Hey there, Colonel. We were just talking about that stew one of the Chorans made for us," Randy Travers said amicably. "The one that tasted like chicken and dumplings."

Sheppard smiled, digging into his lunch. "Tasted like gumbo to me," he said wistfully.

"Like the kind we used to get outside of Atlanta..." Owen Sykes chimed in, laughing breezily.

Thus it continued until they all shared their adventures on their last mission.

--------------------

Sheppard returned to his quarters after two briefings; the first for the previous mission, and one for the mission next week. The Chorans had not been approached by a Prior yet, so it was SG-22 that came to set up an ally, and a frequency disrupter. Thankfully, the native people felt it was best to stay away from the Ori. After centuries of oppression from the Goa'uld, there was no way they were going to be ruled by another.

Their next mission was to visit a planet that was expecting the return of a Prior. _Finally! I get to see one up close! Well, maybe._ The only thing that concerned him presently was the Alterran gene he carried. As a sworn enemy of the Ori, he wondered if the Prior would recognize an ancestor. _I'll have to ask Daniel Jackson._

But first, a nap. Then dinner. He flopped down on his bed savoring the coolness of the pillow against his cheek. As his eyes drifted closed, Sheppard pondered the door to his closet. There was a brightly colored blanket still packed away. In his dreams, he saw smooth white walls, and an old woman smiling broadly at him.

---------------------

The colonel woke with a start. His dreams of Zoame and her village had turned into something else, launching him from a deep sleep. There were no vestiges of the dream, so Sheppard felt even more uncomfortable. He blindly patted around for his watch, but didn't look at the time. He quickly changed out of his rumpled clothing, groggily wandering into the corridor.

"Morning, sir." Two F-302 pilots greeted him as they passed.

_Morning?_ Finally, he checked his watch, and nearly stumbled seeing the clear numbers 0715. Sheppard was still puzzling this out when he literally ran into Daniel Jackson. Blinking twice to get his bearings, he kneeled down to pick up the mess of papers and books.

"Sorry, Doctor Jackson. Didn't see ya there."

Daniel gave a self-deprecating smile. "You wouldn't believe how often that happens," the shy man said, cheeks faintly red. "Thanks. And," he touched the colonel's arm to stop him from leaving. "It's not like we're strangers, you know. Please, call me Daniel."

"Okay, well, you can call me John." Sheppard felt slightly uneasy. He watched Daniel adjust his glasses. "You okay?"

"Yes, yes, fine. Thanks again." He shuffled away balancing books and papers again.

"Oh, hey, Daniel!" Sheppard took two long strides to catch up with the other man. "Let me take those," he said, indicating the disorganized stack of papers.

"Uh, sure."

The colonel searched for a way to voice his question. "Mind if I ask you something?"

"No, go ahead."

"These Prior guys. Can the Ori sense an Alterran through a Prior?"

Daniel stopped walking. If he were a car, there would have been screeching tires. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Sheppard grinned sheepishly, passing a hand through his hair. "I mean, can they tell who their descendants are?"

The archaeologist studied the other man for a moment. He knew John Sheppard could come out of left field with a solution to a problem, but this was thinking far beyond what was expected. He jerked his head towards a door. "Come with me."

They ducked into a smaller lab; Sheppard guessed this was Daniel's office. The three devices he found were on a shelf, two of which were pinging him occasionally.

Daniel placed his armful of books on a semi-clear spot on a tall table. Gathering his thoughts, he faced the colonel. "I've never really thought about it, but I guess anything's possible."

"Should I worry?" He really wanted to know.

The linguist pursed his lips contemplatively. "Well, when there's a Prior involved, one should always worry. But we're talking about a war that started ten thousand years – or more – ago. Some of the ascended Alterrans believed they should be worshipped for the powers they possessed. Others believed in non-interference."

Sheppard nodded slowly, having read the mission report of Daniel's first encounter with the Ori. "This caused a rift, and the Ori emerged."

"Yes!" Daniel was about to launch into full professor mode, but he dampened the output. "The Ori must be aware of the Ancients' descendants, so either they don't care, or they have something in store for everyone later. Makes me wonder though..." Movement caught his eye just over the colonel's left shoulder. "Um, one of your toys requires your attention."

"I know," Sheppard crossed his arms, staring intently at Daniel. "It hasn't stopped since I touched it the first time." He moved purposefully away from the object blinking on the shelf. "To be honest, my main concern is the diseases. Obviously, they don't react well to human physiology, but what about those with the gene? I've seen some crazy viruses cooked up that just affect the gene."

"Yes. Your concerns are valid. But there's no –" Daniel suddenly stopped, staring off into space. When Rodney McKay had an epiphany, he was much louder. Rapidly snapping fingers, barked equations, and even more impatient. But the archaeologist merely stopped talking; Sheppard could see the gears turning.

Daniel dived for a thick book on another shelf. "The Book of Origin may have something to say about it."

Sheppard was hoping for a quick answer, but by now he felt it would be impossible. "Listen, I'm gonna grab some breakfast. Can I get you something?"

The linguist absently waved, staring at his book. "I'm fine. Come back later; I'll try to have a better answer for you."

-------------------

Two days later, there was still no definite answer. Daniel adjusted his glasses. "My guess is that they would have gotten rid of the Ancients' descendants long ago if they knew we insignificant humans could find our way back to the Pegasus Galaxy."

"Maybe they didn't care at the time," Sheppard replied, ignoring the persistent hum of the projection device. _Come on! I just got rid of this headache!_

"Could be they're just gathering as many followers as they can to gain more power."

"And the more power they have, the easier to beat the Ancients."

"Since they gain power through adoration –"

"The Ori would be like a supernatural superpower with a bunch of people all over this galaxy idolizing them, and eventually dying for nothing."

"Sounds familiar," Daniel said flatly. The last thing he wanted to think about was an all out war between ascended Ancients and the Ori. "Earth would be the eventual prize."

Shrugging slightly, Sheppard wondered why Earth was so important to the bad guys. "I guess the annihilation of the unbelievers would be quite the ego boost."

Now, the colonel couldn't wait to face a Prior. The device on the shelf beeped at him once, then quieted.

-----------------

Dinner with friends. Not just any friends. People who had grown closer together through trials and hardships, and impending doom.

Carson had finally coaxed Elizabeth out of her sanctuary, but she still looked like a bird ready for flight. Sheppard watched her closely as she sat down. She laughed at Rodney's misadventures, and listened to Carson's genetic findings, but she avoided John Sheppard.

The colonel began to wonder if it really _was_ him. But Sheppard was patient. Sort of. He would try to wait for her to say something, anything. Eventually, she met his furtive glance with a small smile. Relief flooded through him as he returned the smile.

"So," she said. "I hear you get to meet a Prior."

"Do ya, Colonel? I'm verra interested in knowing about descendants and their interaction with the Ori," Beckett said in a rush.

Sheppard had been sipping water when a sharp pain lanced through his skull. He dropped the water glass and held onto the table for dear life.

"Sheppard! What is _wrong_ with you?" McKay was horrified and a little embarrassed while a waiter wordlessly cleared the broken glass, replacing it with a new one. "Are you okay?"

The doctor grabbed Sheppard's wrist without trying to uncurl the hand gripping the tablecloth. "What is it, John?" he asked, yet he had a pretty good idea what happened. A buzzing in his head had scattered his thoughts.

All color had drained from his face. "'Lantis," Sheppard said through clenched teeth.

"What? That's impossible! There's no _way_ you could possibly connect with–"

"Rodney! Please! I'll explain later," Beckett said while trying to get the colonel to open his eyes. "I need to know what's wrong, so I can help."

Sheppard took a shuddering breath, relaxing his body. The pain in his head quickly eased, leaving him feeling hollow. He let his hands drop to his lap as sound rushed back to his ears. When he opened his eyes, he saw worry, shock, and concern. "I'm good now," he said taking another breath.

"Are ye ready to move yet?"

"No," Sheppard whispered.

Suddenly, all their phones rang simultaneously. The call only confirmed what John Sheppard already knew.

Atlantis was under attack.

------------------

Eew. That was most difficult! Sorry if this disappoints. But the Ori/Alterran (sp?) conflict was something that was on my mind. Any thoughts? Please share! Oh, and review this drivel... LOL


	6. One Week Ago

Finally! I can post!

Thanks so very much for everyone who reviewed! And I guess I'll have to write a separate story for John meeting a Prior. I didn't think people would be into that. I actually wrote about 1,000 words on their meeting, but scrapped it for the conversation between John and Daniel. Now that I know, I'll flesh it out for ya...

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I swear.

Spoilers slightly for The Return, Part 2

One Week Ago

John Sheppard had always been a draw-outside-the-lines kind of guy. But sometimes he wondered if he weren't missing a few crayons. Not exactly crazy, but close. Maybe.

He and Rodney had concocted a plan so crazy, they should both be in restraints. Or maybe sleeping it off in the infirmary. In the back of his mind, Sheppard could still hear General Landry's gruff voice threatening to end everything. But he had shut it away; the colonel didn't want to know how he would lose everything. Lose Atlantis, his newly found family, and the privilege to fly spaceships. Most of all, he really didn't want to know how Jack O'Neill would – could – get it back.

Moving through the corridors like a ghost, Sheppard placed his hand on a random wall. The City had called out to him over light years, and now she was quiet. He had wandered over to the control chair a few times, but he wasn't welcome. Atlantis had shut the pilot out of the deeper systems, most likely as a protection for him.

He wasn't quite sure how the others left on Earth felt about their return. By now, the news must have spread like wildfire to the ends of the planet. Sheppard's small band of rebels were alone for now in Atlantis. The Ancients had fled before their arrival, and as far as they knew, every Asuran in The City had been destroyed.

The colonel had sent Ronon and Teyla on a scavenging mission; they had left Earth without much of a plan, other than regaining The City. Food, clothing, and everything else had been left behind. Mckay had shut himself away in his lab, and Beckett in the infirmary, acquainting himself with all the changes the long lost ancestors had made. Elizabeth spent time in negotiations with the SGC and the IOA; every time she would establish communications with Earth, Sheppard's heart lodged in his throat.

_I just got you back! I'm not going to lose you again!_

Twirling the projection device he had found in Daniel Jackson's lab in his hand, Sheppard conjured up an exterior real time view of Atlantis. Earlier, he had fantasized about stealing a jumper to flit around the Pegasus Galaxy. Rebel soldier fleeing the oppressive government. His first stop would be New Athosia, then maybe see Ladon about a job. Although he might have a problem dealing with the Genii, he could at least temporarily repay the leader for helping Elizabeth find Kolya. The very thought of Kolya made his stomach turn.

"Where have you been?"

Sheppard started badly at the exclamation from Rodney McKay. He had been sitting on the floor of his office, reading reports from Atlantis and McKay. The sudden and loud voice snapped him out of his sulking, causing the laptop to slide off his knees. His heart hammered away as the Chief of Science kneeled beside him. Sheppard blinked owlishly as he brought his breathing under control.

"What are you doing? We were all meeting for lunch, remember?" McKay said softly. "It's freezing in here, Sheppard."

Honestly, the colonel hadn't noticed. However, now that McKay said so, he was suddenly cold. Righting the laptop, he moved to stand, joints complaining all the way. While sitting in the corner of his cold office, his muscles had stiffened significantly.

"Take my hand." McKay held out his hand, staring intently at the colonel as he stood. "You look – what the hell did you do to your hands?"

Sheppard looked down at his throbbing fingers. He had bitten the nails down to the quick, some past that. A few were oozing blood; there were numerous cuts and scrapes across them. "How'd that happen?" _I don't recall the last time I ever chewed my nails._

McKay gave an exasperated sigh, and grabbed the colonel's wrist. "Come on. We're going to see Carson."

"No!"

"Yes!" McKay yelled back. "Look, Atlantis hid you from me the first few days, but today this damned city gave me a raging headache until I decided to even _try_ to find you." He pulled the colonel along the dim corridor, heading for the infirmary. "That humming is annoying! And you... You should see yourself. Have you even looked in a mirror lately? How about a shower, Colonel?"

Sheppard allowed his friend to pull him along simply because he was just too tired to do anything else. "I guess I–"

"Guess you'd what, Colonel? Die of starvation or dehydration? Contract some disease wandering around the city with no jacket and open wounds?" McKay stopped walking to face his best friend. His eyes held concern, anger, and weariness, all at war with each other. He didn't want to acknowledge the thin wrist in his hand, or the pallor of the man before him. _How can he possibly be this way? We're home now..._

The colonel flinched under the intense gaze. "Sorry, Rodney. I wasn't thinking," he said, finally breaking eye contact. He really, _really_ had not meant to slip back into this behavior. _Didn't you have enough of this on Earth? Jeez, Sheppard! Snap out of it!_

McKay grumbled, and started walking again, Colonel Sheppard in tow. He wouldn't let go until they reached their destination. "What is wrong with you anyway? Because you've been acting a little, you know –"

"Crazy?" the soldier stiffened, yet resisted the urge to yank his arm away from McKay. _I'm not crazy! I just wanted to get home!_

"I know that, Sheppard," he said quietly, knowing that the ailing man probably hadn't meant to say it aloud. "How do you think I feel? Or Elizabeth? Or Carson?" He turned to face his friend; a frown etched itself in his face. "We all risked everything to get back. Defied the powers that be, and the Ancients. Not to mention the odds. _Eight_ of us defeated hundreds of crazy robots! How cool is _that_?"

Sheppard looked down at the hand holding his wrist. He couldn't help but smile. Looking back at McKay's mobile face, the smile turned into a grin. "We kicked ass."

"Damn straight, Sheppard."

------------------------

When Carson Beckett turned around, he did not expect to see what he saw. His friends entered the infirmary, one's hand encircling the other's wrist, both with ridiculous grins on their faces. Both had a dark smudge on opposite cheeks, and both sported neglected beards. While both looked tired, Sheppard was, of course, worse off. But Carson suspected Rodney had given the colonel a lecture, so just this once, the doctor bypassed the opportunity.

"Why don't ye have a seat, John." He expected Rodney to let go of the colonel's wrist, however he led the colonel over to the bed. Sheppard was perched precariously on the edge of the bed until McKay fussed over him, urging him to lie down.

Surprisingly, the colonel did as he was told, rolling his eyes. "I think one medical doctor is enough, right now. Go sit down someplace."

Beckett took that as his cue, and stepped forward. "Aye, Rodney. Have a seat while I examine my patient." Before he could do anything else, McKay grabbed the colonel's wrist again.

"Look at this! The idiot doesn't even know how he got them."

"McKay!" Sheppard growled.

The doctor smiled contritely. "Thank you, Rodney. Why don't ye take a seat on the next bed. I'll be over shortly."

"What! Why? I'm not the one impersonating a ghost!"

Doctor Beckett's Patented Blue Glare fixed itself on the scientist. "Sit down before I sedate ya."

McKay opened and closed his mouth. "Fine," he mumbled.

The doctor turned his attention to the colonel. "I won't lecture ye, but ye really should've come to me before yer retched insomnia got outta hand."

Sheppard looked away, eyes distant. "I know. But I had to make sure everything was okay..."

"Of course everything is okay. Why wouldn't it be?" McKay had a deep scowl on his face, and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Then his blue eyes sharpened. "Is something not okay? Do you know something? What did _you_ do? 'Cause if you touched something–"

"Rodney!" Beckett and Sheppard said simultaneously.

The astrophysicist stopped his rant, leaning back against the pillows. "Fine. Shutting up."

Carson heaved a great sigh. "Well, Colonel. Let me get my bag, and I'll clean these abrasions." He left quickly, and returned with Teyla, Elizabeth, and Ronon in tow.

Elizabeth Weir appraised the colonel with amused eyes. "Well, now. What have you done this time?" She didn't look quite as tired as she had the last time Sheppard saw her.

The frequent patient tried to look innocent. "Nothing, I swear! Just a little tired, honest." He addressed the other members of his team, each holding a tray. Teyla looked unaccountably happy, and even Ronon wore a bemused expression. "What's goin' on?"

"We have returned from New Athosia with fruits and meat. I also procured some of your favorite rolls, John."

Sheppard let a grin split his face. "The really sweet ones that are all sticky? I love those. Ouch!" He snatched his hand away from the forgotten medical doctor. "Sorry, Doc. Stings a bit."

"Aye, of course it does. A few were close to being infected. Where – when – did you get these?"

"He doesn't know. I told you that," McKay replied, cutting off the colonel. "Is anyone listening to me?"

Elizabeth stepped up to clear the bed table. "Of course, Rodney," she said sweetly. Placing food on a plate, she handed it over to the sulking man. "Are you hungry?"

"What a ridiculous –" McKay halted the snarky remark. Shaking his head, he smiled. "I'm starving! Thank you, Elizabeth." He held the plate warily.

"No, there is no citrus, Doctor McKay," Teyla answered with a smile.

"Well, you can never be too careful," McKay groused.

"Ouch!" Sheppard said again, this time Elizabeth had batted his hand away from the sticky rolls.

"Not until after you've finished lunch," she said handing him a plate. She watched the colonel push himself up carefully with his newly bandaged hands. Carson had wrapped gauze around each hand, leaving the fingers free. "Comfortable?"

"Not really, but I'll live."

Elizabeth nodded once, and sat at the foot of his bed. "I finally finished negotiations with the SGC."

Sheppard immediately dropped the fruit he was eating as his stomach flipped.

"I know you've all been wondering what will happen to us since we pulled that little stint. Short answer is – nothing. Everyone will be reassigned back to Atlantis, albeit slowly. But we are all staying!"

The colonel passed a sticky hand over his face and neck. One week of tension completely drained away, leaving him breathless. Then a thought. "Am I –"

Elizabeth gave a brilliant smile. "Yes, John. You are _still_ the Chief Military Officer of Atlantis."

Relief was visible on everyone's faces as they dug into their last lunch alone together in The City. Finally, all the unspoken tension, and the weight of their future had lifted, leaving them to enjoy the remainder of the day. The infirmary looked brighter with the sun cheerily streaming through the multi-colored window high above them.

-------------------

TBC

Just a little something to wrap it all up...


	7. Today

Sigh. Just came back from the Grand Slam, my very first con. Read all about it at my Live Journal post. So I thought maybe I should wrap this up. Not that it needed anything, but here's a short thing...

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

----------------

**Impulse:** noun. The influence of a particular feeling, mental state, etc. A sudden, involuntary inclination prompting to action; a psychic drive or instinctual urge.

----------------

Today

"It's your move," Sheppard said around a yawn. They had spent nearly three weeks clearing away debris, and scavenging what the Ancients had left behind. After sweeping the endless corridors, they had finally rid the floors of scattered blocks of dismembered Asurans. _This is like sweeping Legos!_ John had thought earlier.

Finally, today most of the former expedition were returning. Those few who decided to stay were replaced with those who wanted a chance to see what all the scuttlebutt was about, lending their expertise wherever it was needed. The colonel had tried to count how many new ones he'd have to brief, but ended up falling asleep somewhere around thirty. He didn't envy Elizabeth Weir at all, having to negotiate, and mediate for their fiasco, then having to ask for additional members for the next expedition.

Rodney McKay had come out on the balcony with the colonel to observe the Daedelus' landing. The sun was bright and high in the sky, causing The City to gleam and shimmer against the blue sky. Sheppard slipped on his aviators, waiting patiently for the scientist to stop hammering on his keyboard. Right now, chess was the only thing that calmed them both.

"Didn't I just move?" Without waiting for an answer, he absently pushed his rook sideways the length of the board.

Sheppard snorted. "Look, if you didn't want to play, you should've said so."

"What are you talking about, Sheppard?" McKay stopped attacking his laptop to look at the colonel. Sheppard was staring off across the horizon with his eyes closed, the wind ruffling his messy hair. The

dark circles under his eyes had faded, and he seemed to be in better spirits the more he connected with The City. McKay had a feeling the colonel had been doing just that as he leaned against the cool metal wall.

"I'm saying I was hoping for a real game this time." The pilot looked over the rims of his sunglasses at his companion. "If you keep moving like that, I'll take this game in six moves."

"How– Oh. You're right." McKay closed his computer and focused on the game at hand. "Six moves, huh? Let's see what ya got."

Sheppard made his final move. "Checkm–"

A sonic boom sounded, rattling the board and their ears. The Daedelus had arrived.

"Well, let's go see– Sheppard?" McKay looked up and the colonel was nowhere to be found. By the time he had reached the gigantic cargo bay, Colonel Sheppard stood ridgidly at a safe distance while the bay doors opened. McKay wanted to ask how he got here so fast, but The City would put him in two places at once if he asked. Not that he could talk anyway; McKay was out of breath when he came to stand next to the colonel.

The first one off the ship was Colonel Caldwell, who shook his head in amusement.

"Welcome back. Sir."

"Sheppard, you are like a bad penny," Caldwell said around a cruel smile. "So you managed to keep Atlantis after all." The tone of his voice was neutral, but Sheppard made a face anyway. "I suppose if General O'Neill and the rest of the United States government didn't want you here, you wouldn't." The Daedelus' commander frowned greatly, the neutral tone quickly disappearing.

"Or maybe they just like me better," the younger colonel said, smiling coyly.

_Sheppard, must you always antagonize him?_ McKay rolled his eyes, and left to meet his returning staff. To say he was surprised to see everyone returning would be a bit of an understatement. Even Miko greeted him with a beaming smile.

Caldwell watched McKay leave, giving him a slight nod. Turning his intense gaze back on the Atlantean militay officer, he shook his head again. "While I don't condone what you did, I will say it was a helluva

move, Colonel. Off the record, of course."

Sheppard tilted his head in acquiescence. "Of course." He ducked away from Caldwell to greet Major Lorne. "Major."

"Colonel." Lorne paused to glance at Caldwell, who left the bay on a course for the control room. The major allowed an easy smile to crease his face. "The place looks pretty good for being under attack, sir."

"Yeah. Had to do some patch work here and there, sweep up a few piles of Replicators. But other than that..."

The major laughed. "Good to see you, Colonel." He stripped off his tac vest, ready to help unload. More Marines and assorted military personnel filed out of the huge ship, eyes round and overwhelmed. Looking back at the pensive colonel, Lorne crossed his arms. "This is going to be a long briefing, isn't it?"

Sheppard clapped the shorter man on the back, and raised his brows. "Major, you don't know the half of it."

-----------------

The End!

Okay, so it wasn't so painful, just wish I could have done it sooner. Dang you, RL! All right, Brendan. Now it's time to see what you've been up to...


End file.
